


oh, seventeen

by wynsolstice



Series: Yuri Plisetsky Week 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Birthday Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I Was (Pretty) Drunk When I Wrote (Most) Of This, Lazy Mornings, Living Together, M/M, Multi, OT3, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Threesome - M/M/M, Triad - Freeform, Yuri Plisetsky Week 2017, ménage à trois
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9965204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynsolstice/pseuds/wynsolstice
Summary: Yuri's mind is constantly waging wars with his body, and more often than not his mind wins and his body loses control. But a phrase as innocuous ashappy birthdayshouldn't be as terrifying as they are.AKA: Yuri is struggling to stay in control and when it slips out of his reach, he needs a little help to get him back on his feet.





	

_Could never tell you what happened, the day I turned seventeen._  - Marina & the Diamonds, "Seventeen"

* * *

The attacks never come out of nowhere, even if he doesn't realize the triggers at first. This time, the source is his own calendar.

It's embarrassing that something so small like a date has the ability to set him off, and that only makes him feel worse as the day progresses. The fluid cursive handwriting painstakingly drawn onto the little tear-off calendar in the kitchen imprints itself onto the backs of his eyelids, mocking with every letter, and he can't shake them off even when he leaves the small apartment a few hours earlier than usual and makes his way to the rink. 

_March 1 — Yurio's birthday! =^-^=_

Once he ties on his skates and feels the comforting slide of the ice under his blades, the hovering weight in his stomach subsides just a little. The cold air of the rink numbs his thoughts just enough so that he can glide aimlessly across the freshly-smoothed ice.

There's something soothing about the way the dim lights reflect off of the pearly white surface and the silence of the rink except for the occasional scrape of his skates that makes his tightened chest ease just a little. Yuri lets his eyes slide shut and simply lets muscle memory move him across the frozen surface, listening to the dull shift of his skates and the slowing thump of his heart in his chest.

He's so engulfed in his own little world that he doesn't hear the doors open until quiet chattering finally cuts through his thoughts. When he opens his eyes, he sees two familiar figures entering through the glass doors. The taller one catches his eyes and lifts a hand to wave at him, and Yuri feels his usual scowl sliding into place in response.

By the time Yuri makes his way to their side of the rink, both Yuuri and Viktor are already tying their skates on. He folds his arms on the edge of the barrier and leans against it, Yuuri finishing tying his skates first as always and standing. He meets Yuri's gaze with a warm smile that makes his insides bubble with warmth.

"You're here early today, Yuri." Yuuri's voice is just as soft as usual, and as sweet as honey as he makes his way around the barrier and to Yuri's side. "Something on your mind?"

_Leave it to Yuuri to know exactly when something's wrong._  Despite his annoyance, the warmth in his stomach only tightens further and he finds himself at a loss for words. He hates lying to Yuuri, hates lying to either of them, but impulse overrides conscience as always and Yuri forces a shake of his head, muttering a quiet, "no."

Judging by the way Yuuri's face falls ever so slightly, he's seen right through the blatant lie. Still, he doesn't press and simply nods, skating past Yuri and lightly brushing his fingers against Yuri's knuckles as he does. 

Yuri's left with a terrible stone settling at the pit of his stomach on top of the weight from earlier, making his head swim with guilt. He hates that he can't be honest with Yuuri after all this time, when he had been nothing short of kind and accepting. He supposes it's just the gist of his nature... he was built to be needlessly defensive.

His thoughts are interrupted by two hands suddenly taking his own, and Yuri's head snaps up to meet two familiar blue eyes that immediately pin him in place. There's a mischievous smile flitting at Viktor's lips that falters when he sees Yuri's expression of shock, and he squeezes his hands gently, a question glittering in those eyes that soon vocalizes itself:

"Are you alright?"

It isn't like Viktor to be compassionate- no, it isn't like Viktor Nikiforov to be compassionate, Yuri reprimands himself harshly. The Viktor he knows is beyond compassionate; he is warm and gentle and patient, not the metrosexual and narcissistic prick he comes off as on the ice. Distinguishing the two usually isn't this hard, and the mistake makes irritation pinprick at his skin. 

"I'm fine." The words are a little to short to be truthful, and perhaps now Yuri is lying more for his own benefit than theirs. His stomach tightens and he adds in a less clipped voice, "I'm just tired, is all."

Viktor looks like he wants to believe him, the corners of his eyes tugging down against his bright smile that gives away his hesitance, and Yuri takes some comfort in the trust only for it to quickly be chased by guilt. Still, Viktor just lifts Yuri's hands within his own and tugs him away from the barrier and towards the center of the rink, where Yuuri is doing small loops in Yuri's old tracks.

"Well, there's no time to waste," Viktor says as he skates to a halt and lifts Yuri's knuckles to his lips and brushes his lips across them teasingly, glancing up at Yuri's quickly reddening face through his silver lashes. "The ice waits for no-one, and Yuuri and I have plans for today."

For a blissful, blissful second Yuri is ignorant of what set him off that morning, his eyes following Viktor as the man releases his hands and skates backwards to do tight, calculated loops around him. 

"Plans?" he says. "Plans for what?"

"Your birthday, of course," Yuuri responds from across the rink, and Viktor nods eagerly along with him, and almost immediately the dread comes back to hit him full force in the stomach. It takes all of his strength to not flinch away from the sudden leaden feeling sinking into his gut, especially when Viktor gives him a strange look. Undoubtedly he's gone as pale as a sheet, and he can feel tiny tremors creeping along his fingers that he struggles to ignore.

"Of course," Yuri echoes quietly, trying to inject as much disinterest as possible to shake of the concern that's beginning to simmer in the backs of Viktor's careful eyes.

He quickly turns away and distracts himself with practicing his jumps, not bothering to warm up with singles as he glides into a double toe loop and lets the jarring impact of the jump shake some of the lingering pressure off. He can feel Viktor's gaze digging into his spine as he makes his rounds, but eventually Yuuri calls him over for instruction on his landings and they settle into their usual routine, the sound of skates cutting across the ice and breathless instructions overwhelming the earlier silence.

As stupid as it sounds, Yuri finds himself missing the silence.

The rink isn't theirs for very long, and about an hour later Mila and Georgi appear with an exhausted-looking Yakov at their heels. He tries to focus on his triples instead of Mila's loud voice and Yakov yelling at her to shut up, but of course it's short-lived because eventually he becomes a target of their attention.

"Yurio!"

Yuri cringes at the awful nickname, narrowly landing his triple flip on an unbalanced foot. He stabilizes himself and sends a cold glare to Mila, who waves at him enthusiastically in spite of his expression. 

"Come here!" Mila isn't one to relent easily, so to spare himself a headache he obliges and makes his way to the side of the rink. Suddenly a large, decorated box is being thrust at him. "I got you a present for your birthday. Georgi pitched in, too!"

Yuri stares at the pink-and-white wrapped gift like it's going to lash out and bite him, and Mila raises an eyebrow at him, setting it on the barrier and crossing her arms. 

"Don't look all offended about the wrapper," she snipes. "It was Valentine's themed and cheaper. The gift makes up for it."

"I wholly agree," Georgi adds as he stands up from tying his skates and stands at Mila's side, his eyes softening. "We put a lot of thought into it. I think it's perfect."

They stare at him expectantly and Yuri can feel cotton in the base of his throat, and not the emotional kind. He feels like he's suffocating, all of the fancy wrappers and _happy birthday_ s and cheery smiles closing in on him. It's so stupidly irrational that he wants to puke, and the tightening of guilt and irritation at himself only increases as he stares at the elegant little box.

It feels like he's going to drown in the waves of self-loathing, and what feels like hours ticks by until suddenly a gentle touch slips across his waist and grounds him, pulling him out of his crowded brain. He glances to see cool fingers holding him tight at the junction of his hip and rubbing across the skin under the hem of his shirt in little circles, and when he looks to his left he sees Yuuri talking animatedly to Mila and Georgi.

"- really looking forward to today," Yuuri is saying, his smile infectious. "Unfortunately, that's all Viktor's letting me say."

As soon as he finishes he's looking towards Yuri, and he can't ignore the concern that's bubbling just behind those dark eyes, masked by the usual brightness that takes his breath away. Yuri manages a tight-lipped smile, but it feels uneven and lopsided. Still, some of the tension in Yuuri's shoulders loosens so he figures it helped.

"I'm so excited for you, Yurio," Mila gushes as she leans over the railing with shining eyes, which latch onto Yuuri's fingers at his hip and sparkle even more. "I bet you're all looking forward to some time off, huh?"

The implication in her voice is hard to ignore, and Yuri feels his face heating just at her tone. Yuuri's touch falters at his side but doesn't remove itself completely, and Yuri is inwardly relieved, leaning into it slightly and earning a knowing sideways glance.

"Young love," Georgi says wistfully for the hundredth time, before launching into a spiel about how much he misses his own romantic life. Fortunately, Yakov calls the two Russians over after a couple of seconds and spares them from hearing about Anya for the hundredth time.

"If something's bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?" Yuuri asks quietly once the two have left, turning towards Yuri with his touch still burning on Yuri's skin. He leans down until his lips brush against Yuri's forehead, chaste and light. "Viktor, too. Don't be afraid to open up to us if it gets to be too much."

Yuri swallows hard past the lump gathering in his throat, and he barely finds the strength to nod, not trusting his own voice to work without giving him away. Yuuri pulls back and smiles at him warmly, and he looks like he's about to say something else when Yakov shouts at him from across the rink.

Yuuri calls back over his shoulder before skating backwards, giving Yuri one last glance. He seems to debate over something before grinning and mouthing something to Yuri before turning and skating to Yakov's side.

_Happy birthday._

Sinking his teeth into his lower lip, Yuri tries hard to shake off the rising pressure in his chest and instead focuses on his skating, launching himself quickly into a series of jumps and spins. 

Practice proceeds as normal for a while after that, and the burn in his muscles eases some of the tension that gathered there earlier. However, soon he's being interrupted by Viktor calling him from the side of the rink. When he looks over his shoulder, Viktor is waving eagerly with Yuuri at his side, only visible by the crown of his head as he laces up his skates.

"We're leaving early," Viktor announces as Yuri skates over to the edge of the rink and braces himself on the barrier. "Yakov agreed to let us off early to celebrate."

It takes a moment for Yuri to realize he means all of them and not just he and Yuuri- sometimes they slip off to do more sexual things Yuri doesn't usually engage himself in while he stays back and practices. As soon as he does, though, he feels his mood souring and the typical curl in his stomach returning full-force.

Viktor seems to see the hesitance in Yuri's eyes and stands, pulling his duffel over his shoulder and smiling easily. "Don't worry, we don't have anything overly fancy planned. It's a more private celebration, since Yuuri thought you'd prefer that."

All of the tension in his stomach seems to disappear at the gesture, and when he looks down at the Japanese man and sees him suspiciously busy with his already untied laces the warmth in his chest makes him feel a little bubbly. Deciding not to argue for once, Yuri proceeds to sigh and then nod in resignation.

"Fine. But no surprise parties."

"No surprise parties," Viktor promises, looking like an excited child, and Yuri doesn't miss the slight curl of Yuuri's lip hidden by the fringe of his hair as he finishes taking off his skates. "We're going to make a stop at the grocery store before heading home, but aside from that we'll probably stay inside to avoid the snow...."

Viktor continues to ramble on as Yuri moves around the barrier and plops down next to Yuuri to pull his skates off. Even though he's glad to get a break, he finds he would rather be improving himself this close to Worlds, and he still feels the pressure hanging like a noose loose around his neck, threatening to snap tight at any second. He still doesn't get why something as trivial as his birthday is making his skin crawl, and as they pack up and head into the frosty winter air he tries to ignore it in favor of enjoying his time off.

_Chances like this don't come often,_  he told himself sternly. _Try to enjoy it for once._

* * *

He tries. 

As soon as they get home Yuri realizes immediately just how difficult that comes to be, because Viktor and Yuuri have decorated the apartment to an unreasonable degree. Banners and confetti and streamers are pasted on the walls and a painstakingly iced birthday cake is sitting on the counter waiting for him. The entire display makes his chest tighten painfully, and not in the good way- he finds himself longing for escape. 

"Happy birthday,  _kotyenok_ ," Viktor says warmly as he wraps an arm around Yuri's waist, pulling him closer and pressing his lips gently against his head. 

"I hope the decorations aren't too much," Yuuri adds. "I told Viktor not to go overboard but of course, I let him be in charge of buying the supplies so he did exactly that."

"It's not overboard!" Viktor's voice is almost petulant as he slips away from Yuri and goes to dig in the kitchen, presumably for a lighter. "Our kitten deserves nothing less, especially for his seventeenth birthday."

_Seventeenth birthday._  

Yuri can feel it inside of him, the pressure that threatens to break his ribs from the inside out- and he knows that he has to escape. That he has to... he has to get somewhere else, away from the decorations and streamers and confetti. Heart in his throat, he glances around the room desperately and makes eye contact with Yuuri. For a terrifying second he can only feel the fear rising in his chest and Yuuri's eyes boring into him and then- Yuuri understands.

"Let's go change out of these sweaty clothes," Yuuri says as he moves forward and gently takes Yuri's hand, and he couldn't be more grateful because he isn't sure he can make himself move on his own. "We could all probably afford a shower anyways."

"Ooh, I want to shower with-" Victor starts, but he's interrupted by the no-nonsense look Yuuri shoots over his shoulder. "Okay, fine, I'll go put Mila and Yakov's presents up and find the lighter. Hurry! I miss you guys already!"

Yuuri gives a good-natured scoff, but his fingers are warm and reassuring threaded in between Yuri's and it helps stabilize him, just a little bit, as he tugs them both into the bedroom and shuts the door. Once they're alone his legs give out and suddenly he's on the floor with his head between his knees and Yuuri is gently running his hand over Yuri's hunched back, whispering soothing words under his breath. 

Yuri isn't sure why he's so upset or why he can't think past the thud of his own heart in his ears, but he's not unfamiliar with the notion. The attacks come sporadic and sometimes completely out of nowhere, but he knew this one had been building up all day- instead of handling it on his own, he had let it get worse and worse and now he's suffering the consequences. He can barely think, and every breath comes heaved through tight, aching lungs. 

"You're doing so good," Yuuri murmurs, his soft voice somehow breaking through the static of panic in his brain. It's familiar and takes some of the crushing pressure off of his chest, just enough to squeeze in rapid, painful breaths. "You're safe with us. You're safe here, so just breathe for me."

"I can't," Yuri says, his voice sounding awful and ragged to his ears. He hates this, he hates how he doesn't have control over himself over something so trivial like his birthday, and the feeling only makes him feel worse. His fingers are numb when Yuuri takes his hands and warms them in his own.

"You can." Yuuri's voice is still so quiet, and there's no fear in there at all- nor anger. Some irrational- or is it rational?- part of him was terrified that Yuuri would be mad at him for ruining the birthday plans, for losing control over himself, but there's only calm in his voice. "I know you can do this. Breathe with me as best you can, okay?"

Yuri nods, but it feels like his head is being pulled by strings. His eyes are squeezed shut so he opens them slowly, struggling to focus on Yuuri in front of him. As Yuuri breathes so does he, holding it until his lungs feel like they're going to collapse and then slowly releasing it, second by dragging second. After a countless amount of breaths he can see clearer and the feeling of drowning is no longer as strong, his ribs loosening their grip and the ice in his veins slowly trickling away.

"That's right," Yuuri soothes, rubbing his finger over Yuri's knuckles slowly. "Focus on me, on breathing, just like you are. You're doing great, love."

The tightness in his stomach takes its sweet time relaxing, the tension built up in his muscles slowly dripping away until he's completely drained. Nausea rolls in his stomach as his head spins, but the crushing panic has finally faded into an afterthought. Humiliation and shame at his dramatics rises in his chest and it tries to creep back, but he's distracted by Yuuri releasing his hands and brushing his hair out of his sweat-stained face. When he glances up, Yuuri just smiles at him and he's so overwhelmed by the compassion in his eyes that the impending wave of panic all but collapses in his chest.

Yuuri doesn't say anything, and he's grateful. Instead he just pulls Yuri into his arms and surrounds him with his warm and firm body until the shaking finally stops and his thoughts stop tripping around in his cluttered head. Yuri feels small and safe in his arms, and like this he can hear Yuuri's heartbeat, which is steady. Yuri focuses on it and wills his own heartbeat to match it, taking measured breaths in time with Yuuri until it does and it's no longer choking in his throat.

"Thank you," Yuri manages to croak out when he can speak again, his eyes sliding shut as Yuuri's fingers run over the bumps in his spine soothingly. "I'm sorry for... freaking out."

"There's absolutely nothing to apologize for, love," Yuuri tells him, moving to intertwine his fingers with Yuri's and squeeze them gently. "I'm so proud of you for getting through it. And I love you no matter what."

The words never fail to make his heart trip over itself, and thankfully it's in a more pleasant way than before. He can feel the strength of Yuuri's words in his bones; he definitely means it, and it's a lot. He doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve somebody who loves him, much less two people, but they do it anyways. Yuri tries to hide his embarrassment but he's practically sitting in Yuuri's lap at this point so instead he just buries his face in Yuuri's chest and hugs him around the middle, trying to respond without using his words since they never seem to do it right.

Fortunately the message seems to get across to Yuuri and he smiles into Yuri's hair as he hugs him back. They sit like that for an uncountable amount of time, Yuri syncing his breathing with his and listening to the rhythmic pound of Yuuri's heart against his ear until Yuuri finally shifts under him and lifts his head, carefully running his fingers through the blond strands of his hair.

"We should probably shower," Yuuri says, even though he doesn't move. "Viktor's going to get jealous of all the time I'm spending with you."

He doesn't bring up Viktor finding out, and Yuri's infinitely glad because he's been worrying about it already. Undoubtedly Viktor has realized they've been gone for a long time without the shower running, but for whatever reason he hasn't come to check on them.

"Does he know?" The words are small, pathetic, but the stroke of the fingers in his hair doesn't shy away.

"I haven't told him," Yuuri promises. There's an unspoken phrase lingering in the air that's well worn between them, but Yuuri doesn't dare bring it up so soon:  _you should._ He knows he should, but he's scared, irrationally scared, that Viktor won't... he won't love him, he won't want him anymore. He knows that it's stupid but that doesn't change anything, he still feels worthless and small, and it had taken an emergency for Yuuri to find out last year. 

When Yuuri had found out about the attacks he had been beyond understanding. He had worked Yuri through one of the most terrifying panic attacks he'd experienced in his life, patient the whole way through, and he never asked questions- he understood. And even in spite of seeing Yuri at his absolute weakest and ugliest, he hadn't wavered in his affections. 

Naturally, Viktor would do the same, but the doubt still gnawed at him, and on really bad days it would tear him apart if he let his guard down.

"Let's shower." The words come out stronger than before and Yuri relaxes a little at it, pulling out of the tight embrace and standing a little unsteadily. Yuuri is there to support him, standing and resting his hands on Yuri's waist until the world stops spinning from sitting down for so long. "I feel gross."

"Do you want to go on your own?" There's no expectation in Yuuri's words, no unspoken implication, just the same softness. There's no  _are you sure you can do this?_ or even worse,  _you can't do this_. There's just acceptance, patience. Another thing to love about Yuuri.

"No," Yuri says quietly, and almost immediately he feels embarrassment flooding his cheeks as he looks at anything else in the room. "I mean, I can, but...."

Yuuri, just for a second, seems confused before recognition flickers in his eyes as he sees the red creeping up Yuri's cheeks. He smiles, but it's warmer as he tightens his hold on Yuri's waist, fingers burning against the skin. "Of course. Why don't you start the shower, and I'll tell Viktor to put up the decoration."

Yuri is hit by a sudden rush of guilt and he ducks his head, shame prickling at his skin. "Sorry. I can-"

A finger is pressed to his lips, effectively silencing him, and Yuri glances up to see Yuuri looking at him with a raised brow. "Like I said, you have nothing to apologize for. Also, just between you and me, I'm not a fan of big celebrations... I'd rather just eat a bunch of cake and watch  _Cake Boss_ all day."

"Um, we can both agree that  _Cake Boss_ can't hold a candle to  _Hell's Kitchen_ ," Yuri interjects, though relief washes over him- if he's not causing trouble for Yuuri, he doesn't mind missing the big celebrations. Viktor would probably throw a fit, but he wouldn't argue.  _Besides, it's not_ his _birthday_ , he thinks a little stubbornly. "But I'd like that."

"Good." Yuuri grins and it lights up the whole room. He leans down, and in an unexpected movement presses his lips to Yuri's. The kiss is brief and chaste but it still makes his heart race excitedly, even when Yuuri pulls back just enough to kiss him softly on the nose. "I'll be back in a few, so hurry up and get your cute butt in the shower."

Surprised by the sudden display of confidence, Yuri's eyes widen, but before he can argue Yuuri has already slipped out of the room and he's alone again. In a bit of a daze, he wanders to the connected bathroom and turns the shower on. The sound of the water is soothing and it takes some of the edge off of his nerves as he tugs off the sweaty practice clothes and slides under the stream. 

The relaxation is almost immediately, loosening the remaining tug on his muscles and numbing his mind. Exhaustion also sets in like a heavy weight, and he nearly falls asleep standing up until he stumbles a little into the wall. Shaking his head to clear it, he moves back under the stream and lifts his head, letting the warm water spill over his neck and spine in soothing cascades. He almost doesn't notice when Yuuri slips into the shower after him, so absorbed in the comfort of the shower.

"Turns out Viktor almost set the kitchen on fire, so crisis avoided," Yuuri says with a little smile as he moves behind Yuri and immediately starts tugging his fingers through Yuri's soaked hair. The feeling of his nails scraping gently across his scalp makes his spine tingle and his muscles relax even more. "Are you tired, love?"

"Mm." Yuri closes his eyes and tilts his head back further so Yuuri can have better access. 

"Maybe I can persuade Viktor to come to bed early so we can sleep," Yuuri hums, mostly to himself although his voice is soothing on Yuri's nerves, as well as his fingers as they start to work shampoo into his hair. "Save the Netflix marathons for tonight and squeeze in a much-needed nap for us all."

Yuri likes the sound of that, and he hums in agreement. He loses himself in the warmth of the shower water until it's cut off and suddenly Yuuri is gently pulling him out of the shower and wrapping him in a fuzzy towel. He wraps his arms around himself as Yuuri puts his own towel on and they change into fresh clothes. Yuri barely makes it into an oversized, stretched shirt from Viktor's collection before he's stumbling into the huge bed they share and pulling the comforters around himself.

A few minutes later another weight sinks into the bed and under the covers. Yuri doesn't have to turn around to know who it is because the smell of sugar and candles is all over him, and when Viktor wraps his arms around Yuri's middle and tugs him closer he doesn't bother arguing, instead snuggling closer to his warm body. 

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well, kitten," Viktor murmurs into his shoulder as he drops butterfly kisses above the collar of his shirt. "You smell good, though. Like strawberries."

Yuri's stomach tightens at the praise and he just presses closer to Viktor. Eventually Yuuri climbs into bed too on the opposite side of him and brushes the hair out of his face. Yuri opens his eyes to see Yuuri smiling at him with the same gentle expression. 

"Get some rest," Yuuri says as he presses a kiss to Yuri's forehead. 

Yuri nods and lets his eyes slide shut again, and tucked in between the warmth of his two lovers it isn't long before sleep finally drags him down by his weary bones and he forgets all about his birthday.

* * *

When Yuri wakes up, the panic tries to grip him again in the hazy middle between consciousness and sleep. It's dark outside, but he can't see the analog clock by the bed. All he's really aware of is his heart pounding in his chest, and that awareness drives his nerves even further until he's gripping the sheets in his trembling fingers are trying to focus on breathing.

Usually he doesn't have attacks in such quick succession: they're in, they might linger a little longer or reinitiate within an hour time period, and then they're out again and he's too numb to feel anything else. He's so stunned by the suddenness that he doesn't know what to do and instead just squeezes his eyes and struggles to press air through his thinning lungs.

_It'll pass. It's going to go away eventually_ , Yuri tries to reason with himself through the panic crashing around in his brain, but doubt still trickles in and seizes those thoughts before they can calm him: _Won't it?_  

Because this is new and even more terrifying. What if he's going to be launched into panic mode for the rest of the night? Nothing he's doing seems to be working and his fingers are going numb from gripping the sheets too hard, ice making its way painfully slowly down his arms and legs. 

_Why won't it stop? Why can't I breathe-_  At this point his heart is racing far too fast to be normal and he can feel it in his throat, clawing its way upwards and he chokes on it, the noise like a wrecked sob. _This is worse, I'm going to die. I'm going to choke on my tongue and die because of this stupid panic._

Usually when the panic strikes and he's alone he just waits it out because, eventually, it will go away, but this is worse. This is far worse. He can't control his breathing, his thoughts, his shaking, and it's infuriating to the point of blind panic. He's completely lost control of his own body.

A familiar weight shifts behind him and his throat closes up in sheer terror. He holds his breath as Viktor yawns and stretches his legs under the sheet, the sound of his heart crashing in his chest absolutely deafening and his mind going foggy from lack of oxygen.

Viktor pauses in his stretch and Yuri can feel his vision darkening in fear. _He's going to see me he's going to see me he's going to be disgusted I look pathetic he's going to see me-_

"Yuri?" Soft, riddled with sleep, but still conscious. Yuri can feel his body shutting down in panic, and he's resorted to taking short, shallow breaths that do more harm than good. Viktor shifts, hesitates. "Kitten, you're shaking- oh, God."

Viktor's words escape in a soft breath and all of the terror collapses on him at once, the world gives out under him and his lungs constrict completely. He wants to escape, to hide under the bed and suffocate in the sheets, but his muscles won't move past the violent tremors tearing through them.

_He hates me. He thinks I look pathetic. He's going to think I'm useless-_  

"Yuri," Viktor says and he can feel himself recoiling away on instinct and he swears Viktor's breath catches before he reaches down and he's going to hit him- 

No, no, wait. His touch is soft, careful as it brushes across Yuri's forehead and skims along his feverish skin. Yuri knows he's paralyzed, that he's shaking like a fucking leaf, but Viktor doesn't seem to. Yuri finds himself waiting, terrified of when Viktor's going to snap.

But he doesn't.

"Shh, baby, kitten, it's just me." Viktor's voice is far more gentle than his usual cheery tones and it doesn't grate against his nerves like usual. Yuri can barely hear him past his thudding heart but he struggles to focus on the sound of his voice and the feeling of his fingers drawing mindless lines along the edge of his forehead and tucking his hair behind his ear. "I'm not sure what's happening, but stay with me alright? Take deep breaths and listen to me, just like that."

Yuri is vaguely aware of the hiccups in his breathing that make his lungs squeeze painfully tighter, and when he tries to suck in a larger breath he nearly chokes, tears streaming down his cheeks. Undoubtedly he looks hideous, flushed with ugly sobs yet face pale with panic, eyes blown wide with fear and shaking like a terrified puppy. He knows he looks ugly like this, he's seen the after effects, but when he meets Viktor's eyes shamefully he can only find worry and some twisted kind of admiration.

Viktor drops his hand until it's cupping Yuri's neck with a careful touch, like he's made of glass, but it brings much needed physical comfort. His fingers are warm and soft and firm, providing a kind of anchor to bring him down from the mass of terror balled up in his brain, behind his eyes. He strains to focus on Viktor, on the steady rise and fall of his bare chest and the way the streetlights outside reflect off of his paled skin like butter.

"Good job, kitten. You're so good, you're doing amazing, just like that." Viktor's words are repetitive but somehow he seems perfectly calm, like he isn't watching Yuri fall apart for no reasom whatsoever after just waking up. The fingers on his neck gently massage the nape of his neck and some of the tension there drips away. "I'm going to wake up Yuuri, okay? Can he help you?"

_Yuuri-_ he's helped him through these before, and while this one hurts so much more he knows Yuuri can help him. Viktor's soothing words help but he can still feel the looming threat of the blind panic nestled in his chest, and Yuuri is safe too. Yuri makes a jerky nod and twists his fingers further into the sheets until they're completely numb just to stop them from shaking.

Viktor smiles, and it's distracting enough for the loud crash of his heart to become background noise for just a second before Viktor is reaching over and shaking Yuuri's shoulder gently, rousing him. Yuuri grumbles and rolls away from his touch and then Yuri realizes just how much trouble he's causing, making both him and Viktor wake up because of a stupid panic attack for no reason.

Before he can tell Viktor to stop, though, Yuuri is waking with a big yawn and rolling his neck tiredly. When he opens his eyes and blearily focuses on them a frown graces his lips, which are chapped from sleep. Yuri tries to focus on them, memorizing the lines of his face as far as he can focus past the numb terror.

"What's going on?" Yuuri's voice is rugged and hoarse and his sleepy eyes make another path over Viktor and him, struggling to understand past his dream world. "Is everything alright?"

_No. No, I'm freaking out for no reason and I'm pathetic and Viktor doesn't want me._

"Everything is fine," Viktor says instead and Yuri doesn't understand because the world is falling apart, how could anything be fine? Viktor wants to leave him and that's not fine, he's too selfish to let him go. "Yuri needs you."

It's only three words but somehow they manage to drag Yuuri into consciousness, or maybe he just finally realizes how Yuri is still trembling hard enough to make the bed shake. The instant worry that manifests in his eyes is hard to look at and Yuri tries to turn away, to hide his face, but he can't move.

"Oh." The word is soft, just like Viktor's, barely more than a breath. "Oh, Yuri."

_I'm sorry I'm sorry-_

"No, no, love, it's not your fault." Yuuri responds to his nonverbal plea almost immediately and some of the terror lets off just a little bit. "Just stay with me and Viktor, we've got you and you're safe. We'll never leave you, right Viktor?"

The world stops for a minute as Yuri waits for the _no_ , for Viktor to bite his tongue and dodge an answer. He can hear his heartbeat crammed in his mouth as his eyes shift towards Viktor only to find him looking absolutely wrecked with worry. However, as soon as he meets Yuri's eyes it shifts to warmth and he says almost immediately, "Of course not. We'll be right here with you no matter what."

Yuri isn't sure what the twist in his gut is but it is a minutely better feeling than choking on his own heart so he tries to focus on that, and the warmth that spreads over his fingers and toes and neck. He's still shaking and the panic is still lodged in his throat like cotton, but it no longer seems impossible to breathe or move.

"Exactly," Yuuri says in the same calming voice that slowly, centimeter by centimeter, takes the edge off of his fear. "Can I touch you, Yuri? Is it alright if I hold your hand?"

Yuri nods, because he would much rather have a physical anchor right now than be left drifting in between his terror and reality. A warm hand wraps around his and fingers thread between his own and he holds fast to them, unwilling to let go even though he knows his grip must be painful. Yuuri doesn't complain, just strokes his thumb over his knuckles softly and murmurs quiet praise. He focuses on Yuuri and tries to match his breathing, but the panic is already subsiding. 

Eventually exhaustion overwhelms his panic and the shaking gradually disappears. Yuri is slightly aware of a warm hand moving over his head and stroking his hair with the lightest of touches, and he can't contain his surprise when he matches it to Viktor, who hasn't taken his eyes off of him since he woke up. Affection and guilt battle a cruel battle in his stomach until he grows tired of that too, still focusing on taking long, deep breaths through his stomach. He distracts himself by looking at Viktor's silhouette from the streetlight, at the gentle slope of his shoulder and the curve of his jaw and the way his silver hair falls messily over his eyes. There's something utterly beautiful about bed-messy Viktor that makes his heart seize in his chest, yet it's the good kind and he holds onto that feeling.

"You can go to bed, kitten," Viktor says after the pounding of his heart has become a rhythmic beat and has returned to his chest instead of his throat. He doesn't need to be told twice, already feeling the lingering effects of the panic wearing his bones thin and tired. He stretches his fingers free of Yuuri's to test whether he can move them, and when he can he moves closer to Viktor and his warmth. Viktor seems to freeze in surprise before immediately melting into him, bringing his arm to rest around Yuri's waist and hold him close comfortingly. "I'll be here when you wake up, don't worry."

Yuri nods into his chest, letting the slow beat of Viktor's heart calm him just like Yuuri's had as his eyes slid shut, lashes seemingly leaden and thick. Yuuri moves in behind him and draws mindless patterns along his spine that soothe him as well, and eventually he's about a yawn away from falling asleep. His mind latches to a desperate remaining thread of worry and he lifts his head sleepily, glancing up and meeting Viktor's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, his voice thick with sleep and disuse. 

"Oh, Yuri," Viktor breathes quietly, his eyes shining with affection as he cups Yuri's face with his hands and kisses his forehead softly. "I have nothing to forgive you for."

* * *

Yuri wakes up in the morning with the sun spilling over the bedsheets with golden fingers, and it would be pleasant if it weren't for how uncomfortably warm the bed was. However, Yuri quickly realized the warmth was mostly coming from the large body wrapped around him and caging him in with two arms and legs twined within his own.

At first Yuri's confused, because usually he doesn't wake tied up to Yuuri or Viktor, but there's absolutely no escape. He pulls his head back and finds himself looking at Viktor's sleeping face, his lips parted in a soft snore and his silver lashes fanned against his cheeks in an almost whimsical appearance. Ironically, he isn't as breathtakingly beautiful now, a little bit of drool staining the pillow by his head that Yuri would be disgusted by if he was awake enough. 

Of course, looking at Viktor brings back memories from last night, and he shudders involuntarily in embarrassment. The little movement seems to wake Viktor almost immediately, his eyes fluttering open and jumping to Yuri worriedly as they come into focus, his grip becoming impossibly tighter. 

"Yuri? What's wrong?" Viktor's voice is groggy but there's worry in there, and in spite of it Yuri feels a rush of affection and warmth. Instead of answering he just buries his face in Viktor's chest, taking even and steady breaths until Viktor relaxes and brings a hand up to stroke his hair with care. "Good morning, kitten."

Morning. It came far too soon, but it also means that he's officially seventeen years old and time has continued its relentless pace. He isn't sure to this point in time why he was panicking so much about a simple birthday. He is still Yuri Plisetsky, ice tiger of Russia, it's not like he's completely and fundamentally different aside from being a little shaken by his own panics. It all feels so stupid and trivial now, but he ignores the feeling and instead just listens to Viktor's heartbeat. 

"Where's Yuuri?" he asks after a moment, lifting his head to find Viktor scrolling through his phone idly. He noticed the lack of weight on the bed across from him a few minutes ago, but figured Yuuri was in the bathroom. After so long, though, it's obvious that's not the case.

"He says he went to go to the store and to tell Yakov to give us the day off." Viktor's smile is brighter than the sun in the window behind him that stains the stray strands of his hair golden. "And he put a little poodle emoji too, so I think he took Makka with him."

"Good," Yuri mumbles as he presses his face to Viktor's bare chest again, his skin radiating warmth and soft under him. He can hear Viktor tremble slightly with stifled laughter. "I wanna sleep all day."

"We should probably get some food in you at some point, but aside from that the day is yours." Viktor's voice is softer as he reaches down to rub his hand over Yuri's back in small, comforting circles. "We can do whatever you want, you just have to say the word, kitten. But I'm going to have to veto anything that involves leaving the house because it's freezing cold."

This isn't what he expected. Yuri would be okay with Viktor pushing him away or being distant, or even being excessively pushy and pitying him, but instead Viktor seems to be the same as always. Sure, he's a little more touchy, but Yuri's no better, his fingers pressed to Viktor's chest and drumming against his warm skin mindlessly, legs hooked in his. It's just like any other morning.

"If you're thinking about last night," Viktor says suddenly, as if reading his mind, "you shouldn't be worrying. If you want to talk about it we can, but if you don't then I'm willing to wait."

To wait- right. Because he's been hiding this from Viktor for far too long, and eventually he's going to have to explain. Viktor is meeting him halfway, he knows that. It's nothing something he would have done two years ago, before meeting Yuuri. 

"I'll talk," Yuri says quietly, shifting so that he's not totally pressed into Viktor but still facing his chest. "I mean... it wasn't the first time."

Viktor nods, but he doesn't speak, and it's probably the first time that's ever happened. Yuri's lip quirks, but he doesn't comment otherwise.

"I think I've been having them since I was around fourteen, but they only recently got worse." Yuri pauses and bites his lip, the words stuck in his throat like cotton, but he forces them out. "It might have something to do with our relationship. I don't... I don't think I'm enough for you guys, and sometimes it gets overwhelming. But usually I don't have a clue what triggers them, or they build up over time."

Viktor nods again and presses his lips together. Clearly he's fighting not to say something, but Yuri raises his eyebrows and finally it comes out: "You'll always be enough for us. We-"

"I know," Yuri interrupts, before his eyebrows knit together in frustration. "Trust me,  _I know_ , but my brain can't seem to figure that out. Eventually it gets worse and worse until I just spiral out of control, and then there's nothing I can do but sit it out. I'm used to sitting them out alone, and as long as I'm in a quiet space they rarely get longer than five minutes. But when Yuuri found me, I was having a particularly bad one- that was around the Grand Prix Final last year."

"The...." Yuri can see the gears working in Viktor's head before it clicks and his eyes widen. "You flubbed your short program jumps worse than Yuuri did the year before I coached him. Was it...?"

"Yeah. It was after." Yuri nods shortly, not eager about digging those particular memories up. "Ironically he found me in the bathroom just like I found him a couple years before. By that point I was pretty worse for wear, and I tried to get him to go away, but he's got a lot of experience in that kind of situation, apparently."

Viktor nods. It's no secret that Yuuri struggles with his own anxiety both on and off the ice, since he's been struggling with it for a while. Yuri was just a lot better at hiding it behind a bad attitude and a lot of aggression, opting for offense rather than defense. Yuuri, however, had torn right through that part of him in a matter of seconds.

"I begged him not to tell anyone, because it makes me feel weak. If the other skaters found out about..." Yuri has to pause, take a deep breath as the implications of his panic attacks could mean, especially if the media got a handle of it. Fortunately, Viktor seems to get it and brushes his fingers across Yuri's forehead comfortingly until the worry subsides and he can speak past his swollen tongue. "I meant to tell you earlier, but I was afraid. You always talk about how strong I am, and- and I didn't want to, I don't know, ruin that."

There's a long silence where Viktor seems to be thinking of what to say, and then he catches him by surprise by curling a hand around Yuri's cheek and lifting his face so that their eyes meet. The blue in his eyes is so intense that it's painful to look at, but equally painful to look away, so instead he focuses on the light, almost invisible freckles along his nose from the time at Hasetsu. 

"You're always going to be strong to me,  _Yura_ ," Viktor promises, his voice more earnest than Yuri's ever heard it. "You have no idea- if anything, you're even stronger to me now. I can't imagine what it was like to go through that alone for so many years... and I had no idea."

"Neither did my own family," Yuri shot back, not allowing that guilt a second of a lifespan out of his own spite. Still, Viktor's words make his veins buzz in response and his stomach curls in a deliciously good way. To know that after seeing Yuri at his weakest, Viktor still thought he was strong- it was almost too good to be true. He glances down at the bed sheets in embarrassment and relief until Viktor's fingers tangle in the hair along the side of his face and draw his attention back.

"I promise you," Viktor says firmly, "I'm not going to be ignorant anymore. If you need help, you can come to me, and I'll never think less of you, okay? You could groveling on your knees and I'd still think you were strong, so don't ever think that opinion of you will change."

Yuri can't find the words to response, he can't even find the thought process to response, so instead he just acts on physical impulse. His eyes drift down to Viktor's lips, which are still slightly chapped, but when Viktor follows his eyesight he wets them almost subconsciously. His gaze flits up to Viktor almost hesitantly, but when he sees the raw admiration and want there it makes all of his earlier insecurities go down the drain and instead he leans up and Viktor meets him halfway, ghosting his lips across Viktor's gently injecting every ounce of gratitude and sincerity into the action that he can't express out loud.

Fortuntely, Viktor seems to understand everything he's saying, because he responds eagerly beneath him, shifting closer until eventually Yuri is flat against the mattress with Viktor straddling his hips. Yuri continues to press light kisses against his mouth until Viktor's hands move to frame his head and one tangles in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. The pleasure makes his back arch off the bed and he kisses Viktor with more intention behind it before sucking Viktor's bottom lip between his teeth and tugging on it purposefully.

The reaction is instant as the hand lost in his hair tightens and Viktor opens his mouth willingly, allowing Yuri to take the lead from beneath him. He slips his tongue between Viktor's parted lips and flirts his tongue against Viktor's before pulling back with a bit of playfulness, grinning against Viktor's lips as he let out a quiet whine of indignance.

Viktor lowers his hands to cup Yuri's jaw as he takes back control, sucking his bottom lip and tugging on it with his teeth gently. Yuri responds eagerly as the heat in his stomach bubbles to a boiling point, arching into Viktor's touch and letting his hands drift from where they're pressed to his abdomen to rest against Viktor's waist, fingers digging into the flesh of his hips when Viktor licks along his teeth and into his mouth.

Kissing Viktor is almost always more heated than with Yuuri, or at least it gets there a lot faster. Where he can kiss Yuuri for hours without having to worry about going anywhere, kissing Viktor is like a challenge to see who can have control, sucking and pulling with teeth and tongues. He finds that he likes both, but right now he needs Viktor's heat and insistence, and Viktor is meeting him halfway there.

Viktor is the one to pull away to breathe first, and Yuri occupies himself by brushing his lips down his sharp jaw and pressing wet kisses to the hollow of his throat. Viktor responds to his touch, always sensitive around the neck area, playing with the hair at the nape of Yuri's neck as he does.

"I love you," Viktor manages inbetween uneven breaths, looking down at Yuri through his lashes with bright eyes and a slightly off-kilted smile when Yuri pauses in his neck assault and looks up at him. Viktor runs his fingers through Yuri's hair tenderly and frames his face as if he's holding something precious, the curve of his lips bith endearing and beautiful. "I love you more than the sun loves the moon. You and Yuuri are the best things that have ever happened to me."

Yuri can hear his heart crashing in his chest, but this time it's out of love instead of fear, but maybe the lines had blurred a little bit before. His heart strained to reach out and take hold of Viktor, and he has no idea how to say that aloud and sound as elegant as Viktor.

"That's cheesy," is all he manages to choke out, but Viktor must see what he really means somewhere because his eyes soften and he leans down to press little ghosts of kisses down Yuri's nose and on his eyelids, smothering him with them.

"I am known for my dramatics." Viktor speaks between his flurry of kisses, fingers skimming over Yuri's sensitive sides and making goosebumps rise in their wake. "But I mean it. You two are my life and love. I've been looking my whole life for you both and I'm only sorry I didn't get to you sooner."

Yuri rolls his eyes even as his chest squeezes at the sincerity, lifting his hands to drift over Viktor's bedroom hair and tug at the ends playfully. Viktor smiles against his skin as he drops lower and reciprocates the neck kisses from earlier, humming as his eyes slip closed in content.

"Viktor," Yuri says, the word humiliatingly breathy in his throat as it comes out, but the way Viktor shivers makes it worth it. "That's- _hey-_ that's embarrassing."

"You're embarrassed by my love for you?" Viktor's voice is a challenge and he nips at Yuri's shoulder teasingly, earning a yelp. "Maybe I should prove to you just how prideful of a lover I can be. I could spoil you rotten, kitten, but... I guess, if I'm that embarrassing...."

Viktor starts to pull away and Yuri is digging his hands into Viktor's hair and dragging him back before he can even get far. Viktor just grins as he shakes his head and resumes kissing against the side of Yuri's neck, sucking at the skin just under his jaw in a way that makes Yuri writhe under him.

"F- _Viktor_ , Christ-" Yuri chokes out, his fingers tightening in Viktor's hair to keep from crying out as Viktor starts to pull at the skin with his teeth. He runs his tongue over the bruised flesh apologetically to soothe the burn and Yuri relaxes, though his hands drift from Viktor's nape to wrap his arms around his neck and clasp them behind his shoulders. He lets Viktor assauge his neck for a while until he's certain to look like a child's finger painting. 

After what seems like an immeasurable amount of time and kisses (both on the mouth and on the neck and shoulders) the door opens and Makkachin barks a greeting. Yuri tries to push Viktor off but the attempt is in vain as Viktor presses against him like a second skin, kissing under his chin petulantly.

"Viktor," he whines, pushing on his chest with the heels of his palms, though it's half-hearted at best. "Yuuri's going to catch us."

"Great, he can join in on the fun!" Viktor smiles against his skin and Yuri rolls his eyes for the hundredth time, though he can't fight a tiny smile in response. 

"But I'm hungry," Yuri tries, bending his neck to meet Viktor's hooded eyes. "You don't want me to starve, do you? What happened to spoiling me rotten?"

Viktor seems to contemplate heavily before blowing a heavy sigh and collapsing on Yuri like a deadweight (although noticeably careful to not crush his beloved kitten as always.) He gives a melancholy pout even though it's clear Yuri won the argument.

"You're so mean, _Yura._ "

"Only because I love you." The words still feel stiff, it still feels like he doesn't deserve to say them to people like Viktor and Yuuri, but the way Viktor's entire face lights up like a child on Christmas makes it hurt a little bit less. He quickly looks away, red creeping up his cheeks. "Or something."

Viktor opens his mouth, looking torn between crying and having a laughing fit, but then the door opens and Yuuri peeks in. Yuri glances at him over Viktor and doesn't miss the wide-eyed shock that crosses his face for a moment before growing warmer and softer.

"Please save me," he mouths over Viktor's shoulder, earning a little giggle from Yuuri as he steps into the room and starts pulling Viktor off of the bed by his ankles. Viktor thrashes a little, but he's still winded by Yuri's words so he goes pretty easily before spinning in Yuuri's arms and hugging him around the waist with a giddy smile.

"Yuri! Repeat what you said to me," Viktor pleads as he turns back to Yuri, who's sitting up in the bed and trying to control his messy hair (no thanks to Viktor.) Yuri scowls at him and Viktor pouts back in reply. "Please?"

Yuri grumbles under his breath as he looks to the side, embarrassment still staining his cheeks red. He catches a glimpse of Yuuri watching him patiently and there's something in his eyes that manages to persuade him because eventually he mutters it through gritted teeth.

"What was that?" Yuuri seems a little confused, but there's a little bit of stunned hope in his voice that gives Yuri the strength to shout it out a little more aggressively than most:

"I said _I love you guys!_ " Yuri must look like a tomato by now and when he's met by Viktor's excited giggles and Yuuri's silence he feels a desperate need to explain himself. "It's not that big of a deal, I just figured... since... well, whatever. I take it back, so-"

"No!" Yuuri's shout catches him by surprise and when Yuri finally meets his eyes he finds them welling with emotion. "No- I'm just really happy. I... we love you, too, Yuri. I'm sure you know that, though."

He does. It's the one most solid thing he has to hold onto- he knows that above all, he'll have Viktor and Yuuri as his strength. He feels stupid for doubting it for even a second, because it's nothing short of the complete truth. He doesn't realize he's crying until suddenly Viktor and Yuuri have climbed into the bed with him and Viktor and wiping his tears away with gentle thumbs while Yuuri hovers nearby anxiously.

Still, Viktor's eyes are shiny too so he knows he's not the only sappy one. He doesn't argue when Viktor folds him into his arms and Yuuri rubs his back soothingly, because he needs it- he needs this reassurance and comfort, because while he may be stronger, Viktor and Yuuri give him the extra strength he needs to stay upright when his own strength gives out.

"Happy birthday, love," Yuuri says after a long silence, and for the first time in a while, the phrase fills him with hope instead of the impending dread it usually does. Yuri laughs hoarsely, the sound muffled by Viktor's shirt, and he realizes that there's nowhere else in the world he would rather be than with these two losers.

Because, really, who else would be there to meet him halfway when he fell short?

* * *

_The rise of a king and the fall of a queen; oh, seventeen._

**Author's Note:**

> OOPS im twenty minutes late love u cat son!!! && this is totally drawing from personal experience, panic attacks are different for everybody but theyre all scary as hell and yuri is lucky to have such caring boyfriends. im Weak for this ot3 so i wanted to contribute :^)
> 
> !! happy bday catbabe sorry i gave you panic attacks and angst for your birthday
> 
> (i have a strong inclination to add a smutty second part which was going to be here originally but im fucking exhausted so lmk what u guys think!)


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